Toulouse, Paris, Rome…

Some lovely work in the public sphere by Zilda; found here.

.

equinox late 14c., from O.Fr. equinoce (12c.) or directly from M.L. equinoxium “equality of night (and day),” from L. aequinoctium “the equinoxes,” from aequus “equal” (see equal) + nox (gen. noctis) “night.” The O.E. translation was efnniht. Related: Equinoctial.

Seasonal change is definitely in the air (together with tens and tens of thousands of Canada geese massing for migration—as I noted this morning en route to work), on this special twice-a-year day on which the day’s minutes of daylight equal the minutes of darkness everywhere on our wee planet.

Autumnal up here in the North, Vernal down under… regardless, best equinoctial wishes to dear friends and colleagues far and near!

.

Correctly English in Hundred Days by Min Hou and Lin Youtong (eds.), Shanghai: English Translation Advancement Society, Correctly English Society, 1934… ‘This book is prepared for the Chinese young man who wishes to served for the foreign firms. It divided nealy hundred and ninety pages. It contains full of ordinary speak and write language. This book is clearly, easily, to the Chinese young man or scholar. If it is quite understood, that will be satisfaction.”

(Thanks to Ada Nordkvist for the card featuring this book cover that arrived in the mail today… with a thoughtful followup note re: an interview I had with her last week).

Winnipeg, Manitoba

I’ve spent the better part of the weekend (with invaluable help from Ev and Simon Statkewich—thanks!) transporting a ton or so of letterpress display type, along with a number of proof presses and assorted letterpress paraphernalia (that I’ve just purchased from colleague Susan McWatt FitzGerald) out to my place in the woods. (Sue, real type fiend, had acquired the entire contents of a letterpress showcard/poster shop from a retired printer some years ago, with full intentions of setting up a viable printing operation in her garage… and that’s where the materiel has languished until now. Her pending move to Newfoundland at the end of this month triggered her offer to sell).

Fonts range in size from around 48 point (mostly lead in sizes under one inch) to about 7 inches in wood, with lots of interstitial sizes including some very condensed faces. Of the dozens of dusty type cases and racks (featuring a wide variety of serif, sans serif, and vintage display faces) most need cleaning and sorting—much of the type was literally “out of sorts” in buckets, crates, boxes, and bags… so it appears that I’ll have plenty of winter-evening activity in the months ahead. Truth be said, I love letterpress typography, and I can hardly wait to sort this all out, clean it all up, and start those presses rolling—lots of poster and card ideas already percolating.

Images above: a sampling of the letterpress display type now in my posession; the proof presses range from about a small DIN A5 size to something like 2′ x 3′; not shown—assorted furniture, quoins, brayers, lots of leading, and hundreds of type-high printer’s cuts and etched illustrations (weighing hundreds of pounds). An online search for the patent number exhibited on the larger press brought up this PDF from 1933.

I’ll post better photos of complete alphabets once I have the chance to clean and sort the type. As I’m very keen to find out the specific names of the fonts I’ve just acquired (all without documentation), I’ll send anyone who can help me identify an actual font name and/or fabricator/origin a nice printers block (advert or editorial illustration) by post—I know there are more than a few typography aficionados who visit here from time to time.

.

Many folks (myself included) have been remembering Jimi Hendrix over the past days—rock’s all-time greatest electric guitarist passed on 40 years ago at the tender age of 27. I vividly recall the first Hendrix song I ever heard (in 1968, outside a record store in Basel, Switzerland while waiting to change streetcars en route to school)… All Along the Watchtower from the Electric Ladyland album.

Only the young die good.

Buenos Aires, Argentina

Congratulations are in order for my friend Ronald Shakespear, who makes not infrequent appearances here on this blog—he’s just hit 69! (Not to worry, old man… soixante-neuf is a fine number indeed).

Painting by Andrew Lewis… with some help from Michelangelo.

Atlanta, Georgia

“Here is another item to add to my list of “things I didn’t know had a name:” bandit signs. In case you, like me, are unfamiliar with the term, bandit signs are those dubious-looking advertisements that dot the country’s commuter roads, promising fast money, easy weight loss, and painless hair removal. Usually tacked to telephone poles or stoplights, bandit signs are gloomy but reliable indicators of our collective anxieties. Yet where some see desperation, the Atlanta-based artist John Morse sees inspiration.

Last month, Morse installed five hundred of his very own bandit signs at busy intersections across Atlanta. However, his signs came with a unique twist: they were written in the form of a haiku, the traditional Japanese poem that consists of seventeen syllables when written in English. Instead of images of nature and the changing seasons, Morse’s poems allude to cash-for-gold schemes and singles meet-ups. They are, as he explains, comments on the “consumerist allure” implicit in bandit signs…”

[from a post last week by Meredith Blake in The New Yorker]

Watch a great little video about John Morse and his roadside haiku installations on Vimeo here (2:29). If you find yourself in the Atlanta region, you can use this Google map to find hundreds of the signs (Morse has mapped all of their locations).

I must not fear. 

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little death

that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear. 

I will permit it to pass over me and through me. 

And when it has gone past I will turn

the inner eye to see its path. 

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. 

Only I will remain.

+  +  +

Frank Herbert, Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear, “Dune”

(thanks to friend Jean-Sebastien Dussault for posting this quote on the GDC Listserv)

Winnipeg, Canada

Thursday’s ‘Arts&Life’ section of the Winnipeg Free Press ran a full-page cover feature on one of Canada’s leading painters, Wanda Koop, highlighting her solo show which opens today at the Winnipeg Art Gallery (WAG). I’ve had the privilege and pleasure of becoming friends with and working with Wanda over the years (see samples of the identity design and print collateral materials we developed for her a few years back at Circle here) and I’m truly delighted at this opportunity she will have to showcase a lifetime of work.

Following is the text of the Free Press’ online article

by Alison Mayes (link here):

+  +  +  +  +

Wanda Koop is so prolific, so constant in her art-making, that to mount a true retrospective of her distinguished four-decade career, the Winnipeg Art Gallery would have to lease practically all the exhibition space in town. That’s especially true when you consider that many of her paintings are enormous.

“Wanda could take over this building, the Manitoba Museum and maybe the Convention Centre,” jokes Mary Reid, WAG curator of contemporary art. “I’ve never seen anybody work at the level that she works at—flat out, all the time. It’s amazing that it all comes out of one person.”

Reid has been wrestling with the challenge of how to present the oeuvre of the internationally exhibited, senior Winnipeg artist in a major solo exhibition, organized in partnership with Ottawa’s National Gallery of Canada. The curator came to the conclusion that she couldn’t tell the 58-year-old Koop’s entire art story, so she would survey 25 years, from about 1983 to nearly the present. The result is an overwhelmingly varied, interconnected, multimedia exhibition titled Wanda Koop… On the Edge of Experience.

Trust us: it really is an experience. The much-anticipated show has a quiet opening Saturday, but its splashy opening will be Sept. 25, when the city throws its first Nuit Blanche all-night art celebration and the WAG stays open from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m., with free admission. “It will give (viewers) hours and hours to look at things,” says Koop, describing the show as “almost a kaleidoscope of information.”

The show is on view here until Nov. 21. It will be shown at the National Gallery—which has Koop works in its collection, but has never presented a solo Koop show—from Feb. 18 to May 15, 2011, coinciding with the Prairie Scene art festival. A national tour will follow.

The exhibition is a significant honour for the Elmwood product, a daughter of Russian Mennonite immigrants whose childhood talent was nurtured at WAG Saturday-morning art classes, and who first had work shown at the WAG at age 19. “It’s not that often that women artists in Canada get to have what I’m getting—especially when they’re still alive,” says the world-travelled painter and video artist.

WAG director Stephen Borys notes that Koop graced the cover of the inaugural issue of Canadian Art magazine in 1984. “She could have prospered in any city, in any country, but she’s stayed in Winnipeg,” he says.

A number of Koop’s key paintings on plywood are to hang in lobby spaces at the WAG. The gallery space displays huge canvases from important past shows, some of them landscapes superimposed with technological symbols, for a total of 26 large-scale paintings. There are also monitors showing Koop’s video works, and countless other paintings.

One of Reid’s challenges was that so many of Koop’s past achievements were large installations—shows in which the entire gallery space was designed as an immersive environment. Here, the viewer gets to time-travel and see these installations in miniature, thanks to Koop’s partner, Stephen Hunter, who has meticulously crafted 16 maquettes—architecture-style tabletop models—of past shows.

These environments are complete with teeny gallery-goers—simple black, genderless figures—and mini reproductions of the real works. The viewer can play a sort of “Where’s Waldo?” game, says Koop, by spotting which full-size paintings link up with miniature ones, as well as by discovering connections between early sketches, preliminary paintings, and various versions of the paintings.

For instance, Koop has repeatedly painted Native Fires, based on seeing aboriginal people gathered around open fires near The Forks. In the very large version hung in the show, the orange fires are abstracted into teardrop shapes. “She distils images down to their most powerful essence,” says Reid.

Part of the show strives to recreate the flavour of Koop’s studio. On table after table, sketchbooks, notes, drawings, collected photographs, ephemera and even gunked-up paintbrushes are displayed. This “studio environment” provides insight into Koop’s process and the amount of investigation that goes into the major paintings. “These large-scale canvases just don’t appear out of nowhere,” says Reid. “I think of myself as a visual-language researcher,” adds Koop.

One table is covered with hundreds of jumbled Post-it Notes, on which Koop compulsively sketched while watching CNN coverage of the Iraq war. The overarching theme of Koop’s career has been examining how modes of technology affect nature. In the show’s final gallery space, her new installation piece Hybrid Human is the climax of the show. It’s a collaborative work that combines Koop’s paintings, video projections, a group dance piece by Winnipeg choreographer Jolene Bailie, a sound piece by Susan Chafe and lighting design by Hugh Conacher.

An enormous video projection of Bailie, resembling a black silhouette like the tiny people in the maquettes, will be installed after the dance component premieres at Nuit Blanche. Hybrid Human explores, in part, robots and artificial life. Reid notes that for Koop, “a painting is a type of screen that holds the potential to morph into a mirror.” Four huge Koop paintings each depict a tiny human figure contemplating a vast screen. In a fifth painting, the human is missing. As you stand in a rectangle of light, “You won’t know if you’re looking at a painting, or you ARE the painting,” the artist says.

+  +  +  +  +

Photo: Wanda Koop with a piece from Hybrid Human, part of a solo exhibition opening 11 September at the Winnipeg Art Gallery.